Let's see just how much information I can give you until I get to the point.

So the last five years or so have been dramatic for me in the whole "body weight/happy self image area". Just before that time I was traipsing around college, feeling comfortable enough in my own skin when WHAM! Suddenly I'm engaged (well there's more to it than that, but let's not get into it here), freaking out and realizing that I've got to lose about 10-15 pounds FAST! I immediately put myself on what my cousin Joseph has dubbed the "See Me Naked Diet", and fasted myself down to a hot-to-trot size for my wedding and *cough cough* honeymoon.

But you know, a girl like me can't stay small forever (I have a love/hate relationship with food). My new father-in-law bestowed upon Charming and I a joyfully large jar of his secret recipe chocolate truffle sauce. I know. We totally didn't stand a chance. I honestly believe that I gained 20 pounds within the first four months of my marriage--that's almost more than one pound a week! What can I say? Charming and I were living a life of pure pleasure.

Still, I had terrific plans for that summer to get in shape while Charming and I lived in California while he was installing satellite systems. After all, what was I going to do with all that spare time? I accomplished two big things that summer, and neither of them was losing weight. Number 1 was I learned how to cook; a fabulous skill mind you, but not handy in the weight loss department. Number 2 I. got. pregnant. And then my entire world fell apart. Please know, this was a planned pregnancy, not that it's any of your business, but I've found that people are often curious. However, I didn't plan on being nasty sick for 4 months and only being able to hold down sugary, fatty foods. After the main nausea went away all I had to do to keep it at arm's length was to keep my stomach full. Very full. So full that it didn't just go straight to my hips but it went straight everywhere. I think it's safe to say I gained about sixty pounds before the baby was born. Yich. Might as well crumple up my self-esteem and throw it in the trash.

After motherhood struck I still had high hopes for getting rid of all that "baby weight" (more like pizza, chocolate shakes, and apple pie weight--I mean good grief, the baby only weighed 7 lbs. I guess I was hoping for a sixty pound baby...). I hoped and hoped and hoped. I hoped so much that I did early morning aerobics for about three weeks before PPD set in too strong for me to get out of bed. So I continued to live my life and hope that somehow that nasty weight would drop the heck off my bottom and help an anorexic or something.

AND THEN....tada! I was pregnant again! (Yes, also planned.) Luckily I was already so overweight I just kind of lingered around my starting weight. I maybe gained about 10 pounds overall--which, on top of what I was already carrying, seemed like no big deal. And then the baby came out and she was only 7 lbs too! (Somebody in heaven, throw me a bone.)

Hallelujah for my mother who offered to sign me up for WeightWatchers online. It gave me the boost and real hope I needed to get moving. It took me a super long time, lots of sweat and tears (the tears were a result of all the chocolate I wasn't eating), but I once again became Megs, comfortable in my own skin and with who I am. YAY!

But now for the last year I've still had that love/hate relationship with my food. I'm constantly working out, but apparently it's not enough for my body to love me (see here). I'm doing my best to live healthy and I think I'm doing an okay job. But I'm still yo-yoing here and there. It just feels like I have an appetite that won't be quenched. For years I've referred to myself as the bottomless pit--I can eat and eat and eat and only regret about six hours later for about five minutes. But on to happier thoughts...

Lately I've started two new medications that have had an interesting affect on my appetite. The first makes most foods seem disgusting (unless of course it's fatty or full of sugar). The second has strangely decreased my appetite (who knew it was possible?) and yet somehow has given me a nice full-perkiness in my womanly areas. I honestly think that without even trying I have lost about 4-5 pounds in the last two months (well, I guess I have been trying, but just doing the same ol' thing). Hurray! Now my only issue is, even though I get full super quick, if I do happen to like the food I've been eating, I'll just continue to feast until my plate is clear, or the pan is clear, or whatever. And then I'll feel very sick the rest of the day. Geesh--you'd think WeightWatchers had taught me more control than that--and that I'd take better advantage of such a situation?!

I'm working on it, I really am. Problem today is that I got home from a morning jaunt to the library famished, and proceeded to devour the leftover Chinese Chicken Salad from last night. The thing about salads is you think they don't matter, or count, or whatever. So of course I ate most the entire thing (hey--gotta leave something for Charming!) and now I feel sick.

Oh well. It was delicious. You should all partake.

My sister Jayni set up a cooking blog (yes, I know, another cooking blog, but this one is awesome! Or will be awesome when it gets going. The link is here, and also on the sidebar--Baking With Belle) for a class and made me a co-poster. The plan is to have a new post everyday, with different authors posting weekly. I love the idea because I've always got something new I've tried and want to share with the world, or some kind of an old favorite recipe that will change your life as you know it.

I've just posted the Chinese Chicken Salad recipe today and I'm pestering Jayni about setting the rest up. GOT THAT JAYNI? FINISH SETTING UP YOUR BLOG ALREADY SO PEOPLE CAN ENJOY THE DELICIOUSNESS!!!

I hope you all enjoyed my five-year weight loss history. Now I'll just go hide in a corner and be embarrassed because I've realized I probably said too much again.

That is all.

Rude

Buttercup just informed me, "We (she and Lou Lou) are going to the beach. My mom and dad died and I was sad but now I'm happy now."

At least she took a moment to grieve. I think she did?

Allow me this moment of Drama.

I. Hate. North. Dakota.

There. I said it. Stupid, stupid, stupid place! Why would anyone choose to live in this frozen, barren, wasteland? There is nothing beautiful here, nothing noteworthy or of interest--at least, nothing noteworthy or of interest to me.

When you ask a local what the heck there is to do around here, they respond that "There's always Mount Rushmore". Let me remind the masses that Mount Rushmore is in South Dakota--a completely different state and about a seven hour drive from where I live.

I woke up on this March day, hoping to see some signs of warmth, or even just life outside. I wasn't expecting to go on a picnic or let my kids run through the sprinklers, I was just looking for a glimmer of hope.

But no. Of course not. OF COURSE IT WAS THIRTEEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO!!!

Hell has officially frozen over. It's a little place I like to call home...but only for one. more. year. (Insert evil smile here).

(PR disclaimer: The people in North Dakota are lovely. I mean no offense towards you or your homeland. I just hate this place.)

That is all.

Red Alert: This is a heavy-duty parenting post. Do not read any further if you cannot handle the joy.

So I'm super excited for reasons that all parents, and even non-parents, can completely understand! Drumroll please.....

BUTTERCUP CAN NOW OFFICIALLY WIPE HER OWN BOTTOM!

What can I say? I just got tired of doing it. I looked at her yesterday and thought, "You know what? The kid's almost 4 years old. Let her clean up her own dirty work."

At first the little princess was chagrined. She's used to sitting on her throne and doing her duty without reaping the consequences. Well I let her know that from now on, she can take care of her own kingdom! She whined a little more and sat on her throne a bit longer, but finally realized her "kingdom" needed to be wiped before she could continue with her princessing.

All is well. All is well.

Now all I have to do is convince Lou Lou that sitting on the potty is way better than squatting in a corner...


EDIT: Just to make it clear, Buttercup has been potty trained since she was 2 1/2 years old. She just hasn't liked to wipe her bum when necessary...

Please keep your disrespectful facial expressions to yourself. I'm trying to BLOG here.

So yes, I am one of those bloggers who always says they want to blog more and then they don't blog for weeks at a time and then come back and say "Tada! This is your lucky day--I'm BLOGGING AGAIN!"

The last few weeks have been somewhat stressful for me and when I get stressed I tend to drop something. Usually it is the laundry and there are piles of clothes all over the house that need to be folded up and put away, but strangely enough ALL of my laundry is done. Washed. Folded. Put away in drawers. I've also vacuumed this week (I know, who invaded megs' body?) and have zealously swept the kitchen floor everyday. I've cooked delicious dinners and read stories to my children. You'd think I was nesting or something--but let me be the first to assure you that I am not pregnant (to my monthly chagrin).

But. BUT. I have dropped the whole spending-time-on-the-computer-in-order-to-fill-my-hormotional-days-with-false-joy-and-meaning thing.

It's kind of strange--I thought I was addicted to the computer and keeping in touch with friends. But it's been nice to have a bit of a break from my online self and be present with my family. As I am therapeutically spewing all this out onto the computer screen, I see that all of this is really quite a positive thing, not really the "I've-dropped-the-ball" issue I thought it was. And yet I will say it again: I love to blog and I wish I did it more. Perhaps I will. Now you can all stop rolling your eyes and cheer me on. I can hear all of your millions (haha) of enthusiastic whisper-screams echoing in the distance: "Go Megs! You're amazing! You can blog! We can't survive without your endless wit and randomness and somewhat-complaining every once in a while! WE LOVE YOU!!!"

A girl can dream can't she?

Okay. I have another blog coming up soon, but I thought the masses could use a break from my verbal prowess for a few hours.

That is all.

Buttercup's secret wishes

So this morning the whole gang got to eat breakfast together since Charming is out of school for the week. I cheerily whipped up some scrambled eggs and called in the troops for feeding.

Lou Lou dutifully came to be buckled into her high chair, and Buttercup ran in screaming (with a slight smile on her face). Charming followed close behind crawling on all fours pretending to be a bear. I very sweetly told him to knock it off and come sit up to the table.

Rather than quiet down for the blessing on the food, Buttercup continued the game, but instead of screaming and running she became the predator, roaring fearfully with a death look in her eyes. Charming, with his head bowed, arms folded, and eyes closed, began a menacing growl deep in his chest that filled the room with the threat of an imminent attack. He peered at Buttercup like she was something to eat, and her lip trembled. She pled, "No Daddy! Be a frightened small child!"

I think she's learned her lesson? And I've learned that my sweet little girls are learning no mercy, not even for small children like themselves.

Still, hilariousness.

Hallelujah.

It's raining.

In North Dakota.

In February.

See the happiness streaming down my face.